"Did you two talk about me?" Jack asked immediately after the two left their art classroom. "What did she say? Does she think my hair sucks too?"
"Are you ever going to fix that, by the way?" Alex asked instead of answering.
Jack tamped down his uneven mohawk for a second, only for it to spring back up when he moved his hand away. "I kind of want to see where it goes."
"I don't think you can do that and impress girls at the same time."
"Okay, but what did she say specifically about the hair?"
"Nothing, Jack. We didn't talk about you at all. Wait, no. I take that back. She was worried you might just have a thing for Indian girls."
"I have a thing for all girls."
"Yeah, I told her."
"You did? But that makes me sound like a player."
"Aren't you?"
"Hey, I can commit to someone special."
"I don't think she's interested in being your someone special."
"Yeah, she's too busy interested in being yours, I guess."
Alex heated up from embarrassment, and Jack's smirk made it clear he could feel it. "You don't know that," he muttered, pushing Jack away slightly.
"Can I ask you something Al?" Jack said, crashing back into him and throwing his arm around Alex's shoulder.
"If I say no, will you listen?"
"Hm, probably not."
"Then I suppose I'll say yes."
"Do you like girls?"
"I don't know a lot of them."
"You know what I mean, man."
Alex tried to keep his temperature down as the embarrassment of his answer crept in. "I don't know," he admitted.
"Do you like guys?"
"I... I don't know."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You sounded a little less confident about not knowing that one," he observed.
Alex shrugged off his friend's hold, and Jack thankfully let him.
"I try not to think about it, Jack," he said. "I'd be best off not liking anyone."
"If Eloise asked you on a date-"
"She won't."
"Take a walk on the hypothetical side with me for a second. Would you say yes?"
Alex didn't answer right away. He just kept his gaze down as the two made their way to the track and football pitch where their PE class was held. Jack seemed willing to let the topic go when Alex sighed. "No," he said as they crossed the turf to reach the lockers. "I wouldn't. But I don't know if I would want to or not. I mean, I would say no, but it would be completely detached from if I liked her or not. Does that make sense?"
"No. And yet somehow I understand."
"People were giving us enough looks when we were just talking in class. I wouldn't want life for her here to get even more difficult."
Jack nodded a slightly pained expression in his eyes. It had been less than a month since Miranda Singh had turned him down for the same reason, after all. "If you didn't have to worry about that, though?" he asked, barely louder than a whisper. Alex had a feeling he wasn't the one Jack wanted to hear an answer from.
"I don't know," Alex said. "I don't think I want to figure it out."
Jack almost looked like he wanted to press further, but instead, he just nodded and worked his way back to a slightly more cheerful disposition by the time they entered the lockers. Alex didn't see Matthew Montoya among the boys who were in there already. Eloise had said there was a possibility she had heard Matthew wrong when he shared his schedule, but Alex could pretty easily tell she was just trying to make him feel better. He tried not to get his hopes too high, since there was still a bit of time before class started. Then he kicked himself for getting so bent out of shape at the thought of seeing him in the first place.
Their PE coach was Mr. Sanders, an Australian man in his 40s who was one of the few teachers who wouldn't let anyone get away with anything. A lot of people assumed it was because he was good friends with Professor Alvaro, one of the few old family wyverns on the teaching staff, but Alex had a feeling he would be tough on them even if he wasn't close with someone who had social leverage. When they arrived, he was handing out locker assignments, and since it was the end of the day most of them were towards the back by the showers.
"We're starting with an endurance run today," he announced as he handed out slips of paper with locker numbers and combinations. "Once you get dressed, head out and start your stretches."
"Glad you're going easy on us on the first day, Sandy," Jack said, earning his locker assignment and getting thrown at this face in a crumpled ball.
"Farrow, this year every headache you give me will be repaid with a lap around the campus. While I laugh at you from my golf cart."
"That feels excessive."
"Hm. Just like you. Your locker, Mr. Conrad."
Alex took his piece of paper and pulled Jack away before he forced Mr. Sanders to make good on his threat. Alex tried his best to not look at the entrance every time he heard the creaking metal doors open. Instead, he focused a little too hard on changing into his PE uniform and listening to Jack complain about running in circles. Unfortunately, he didn't even need to look at the doors to know his fear had been confirmed, because suddenly all the chatter was replaced by complete silence. Alex looked up from tying his trainers to Jack first, who was following the lead of everyone else and looking towards the entrance with a raised eyebrow. Alex reluctantly did the same and tried not to wince when he saw Matthew Montoya standing there with that Spanish boy named Emilio.
Mr. Sanders was the first to break the silence. "Come get your lockers, boys," he called to Matthew and Emilio. "The rest of you blokes that are already dressed, get out on the pitch already. Stop wasting time."
The blokes Mr. Sanders was talking to actually listened, but not without shooting dirty looks or muttering unkind words under their breath. Alex heard some of them whispering things like 'runt who started it' and 'all his fault'. A couple even not so subtly bumped shoulders with Emilio, a bold move since he was a fairly muscular guy. When one boy did it a little aggressively, Emilio whipped his head like he was ready to start a fight, but stopped when Mr. Sanders shouted after the boy who had done it.
"Leave the primary school antics out of here, Argent! If you want to start shit over nothing, do it on your own time! You two, come here."
Emilio and Matthew made their way to Mr. Sanders without another incident. "One of them is Montoya, right?" Jack whispered, able to deduce that much from their classmates' grumbling.
"Don't do anything," Alex begged. "If only to keep Sanders from biting your head off."
"Just tell me which one. The big guy?"
"No, the other one."
"Oh, I could take him."
"Jack-"
"I won't, I won't. But I could. If you ever change your mind."
"Thanks, I guess."
Matthew Montoya had yet to notice Alex was there. He was listening to whatever Mr. Sanders was saying with a neutral expression on his face. But when Alex and Jack moved from their lockers to the exit, the movement made him look over and spot them. His neutral expression turned into a frown, and his eyes held that same contempt from when he first slammed his door in Alex's face. Emilio noticed and followed his gaze, and hatred took over his expression even more clearly.
"I won't tolerate any shit starting from them," Mr. Sanders was saying, "but I also can't give you guys any slack if you deal back what they give out. Understand?"
"The two muttered a halfhearted agreement, and Mr. Sanders sent them off to their lockers. They both went out of their way to avoid getting near Alex and Jack.
"You sure you didn't do anything to piss that guy off?" Jack asked as they walked outside. "Felt a lot of malice rolling off him."
"As you said, he just read the sign over my head and didn't like whatever it was he saw," Alex answered.
"Christ, you'd think it said 'I'm going to kill you and your whole family'."
The other boys in their class were hanging around on the pitch, some stretching, but most were just chatting as they had been in the lockers. Only now most of it was complaining about Matthew and Emilio. The loudest of them was Samuel Argent, the boy who had bumped Emilio the hardest. At the first casual utterance of "runt", Alex's slight anger over Montoya's attitude turned into guilt over being angry in the first place.
"-bad enough we have to put up with the fact that they're allowed through the front gates," Argent was saying, "but I didn't think the headmaster would be daft enough to mix them up into our classes. I haven't had a period without a runt yet."
"Argent, if you're so much better than them then why do you let them get under your skin?" Jack asked. "Shouldn't you be 'evolved' enough to be above that?"
Argent turned his head, looking like he has about to argue. He shrunk back when he realized it was Jonathan Farrow that he was speaking. "I mean," he stammered, sounding a lot less confident than he had a second ago, "how do you not? It's like having to share a class with a bunch of rats your professors are treating like your equals. It's degrading."
"Here I thought you were too narcissistic to notice anyone else in a room unless you wanted something from them. Good to see you're growing in that department, at least."
Argent's pale face went red, from both anger and embarrassment. He looked like he was debating if he should continue to argue further, but Mr. Sanders emerged from the lockers before he could get anything out. Alex doubted he would have said anything even without their teacher's presence.
"Hey, I said stretch, not gossip," Mr. Sanders chided. "Go on, before you all earn yourself a weekend cleaning the showers!"
Argent and his friends turned away to start going through the stretches they had all been doing since Year 7. Jack and Alex walked away to do it on their own, but were followed by some boys who Alex had noticed were visibly annoyed with Argent's complaining. But just like the girls in Eloise's PE class, they had only watched or walked away. But how could Alex judge them for that, when he had done the same? If Jack hadn't said anything, Alex sure wouldn't have.
Alex spotted Matthew and Emilio joining the class out of the corner of his eye. They smartly stuck close to Mr. Sanders, watching and following the class's routine from a distance. Five minutes later their teacher blew his whistle once to get their attention.
"Rules of the endurance run are simple," he started, reaching into his pockets for slips of paper with red string strung through them like necklaces. "I'm sure all of you who were here last year remember. We run until we absolutely can't go anymore. It's not about speed or time, it's about consistency. Every time you finish, I'll punch you on the paper. The second you start walking, you're out. The highest number of laps gets a free question to pass on one of Professor Alvaro's exams. And if I think your total is a result of a lack of effort, you'll be getting an extra question instead." Half of the boys murmured in excitement about the reward, while the rest groaned at the threat that they knew Mr. Sanders would follow through on. "Hey, don't be a lazy git and we won't have a problem. Now come get your fancy jewelry and start running."
Despite being closest to him, Matthew and Emilio hung back from Mr. Sanders while the other boys crowded around him to get their papers. Alex noticed Argent and some of his friends shoot the pair some venomous looks. Emilio looked ready to punch them while Matthew just stared back at them in apathy. Alex had a feeling a fight would have started without Mr. Sanders there. Maybe Alex's uncle wasn't overly paranoid about Mary Somers' party.
Alex tried his best not to look at Matthew as he passed by to get his paper. He couldn't stop himself from throwing a glance in his direction, though, and once again his apathy was replaced by disdain when their eyes met.
"Are you sure Montoya's not the big guy?" Jack asked as they started running. He tended to sprint during their endurance runs and fall into a heap of exhaustion after only a few laps. But for the moment he was matching Alex's slow but steady pace. "I have a hard time imagining that short and scrawny kid giving you much trouble."
"Pretty sure I know what my flatmate looks like, Jack," Alex huffed out. "Besides, I'm pretty scrawny myself. It doesn't take much to beat me."
"Eh, he's just playing mind games. I would put money on you in a physical fight. If you fought back."
"A big 'if', isn't it?"
A few other boys had been passing them up while they talked, but right then the short and scrawny kid in question flew by them, along with his friend. "Show off," Jack muttered under his breath. "I bet I could beat him in a race too."
"Good thing this isn't a race, then," Alex reminded him, but he knew Jack was barely listening. Instead, he focused on the other pair as they circled the track, barely slowing down to get their papers punched by Mr. Sanders. Jack hummed in annoyance when they passed them up again before they even finished their first lap.
"Please don't turn this into a competition," Alex begged as they got their punches.
" I'm not. They are. You can tell from the looks on their smug little faces."
"You just want to start a kind of fight that won't cause trouble."
"Yeah? And?"
Jack's hum of annoyance turned into a growl when Emilio and Matthew lapped them again. Alex knew what was coming when the two were poised to do it a third time. "Jack, don't-" he managed to get out as the two breezed past them. But he shouldn't have wasted his ragged breath.
"Alright, that's it," Jack said before easily breaking into a sprint. He overtook the other boys within seconds, then quickly gained considerable distance on them. The two seemed to realize the weird challenge Jack was issuing because they sped up in response. Alex heard Mr. Sanders' feint reminder that they weren't supposed to be running that fast, but none of them were listening. Alex was pretty sure Jack even managed to compensate for the couple of laps they already had on him. When Matthew and Emilio managed to overtake him, he just pushed himself to increase his speed until he was in front again. They went back and forth like that for a while, not even stopping to get their papers punched by the third go around. Mr. Sanders just rolled his eyes and let them be, marking their laps instead with his pen and hand.
Alex was struck by the similar looks of delight on Matthew and Jack's faces. He always knew Jack had the same competitive itch as his brothers, just not for the same kinds of things. Jack didn't care about impressing his father with awards or grades or winning the admiration of whoever his family deemed important. He didn't care about competing to be the next head of the Farrows. But he did care about winning drinking games with Sean. Or winning cricket matches despite complaining that no one would let him play baseball instead. And apparently, he also cared about winning an unofficial sprinting match with a random boy just because he was mildly inconveniencing a friend.
Alex wondered if Matthew Montoya was naturally competitive, or if he too was just taking advantage of the fact that their PE class was providing a sort of sanctioned battlefield. Even if both their motives were a little warped, Alex felt like there was maybe something positive in the fact that they both looked like they were having fun.
By their sixth or seventh go around, Emilio was looking visibly tired. By the eighth or ninth he had collapsed by where Mr. Sanders was standing to the side of the track. Matthew and Jack kept going, no longer sprinting but still trying to outpace each other. Just when Alex was thinking they might just be stubborn enough to keep running forever, they both fell in heaps next to Mr. Sanders at the same time.
"Good work, Mr. Conrad," their teacher said to Alex as he jogged by to get his punch. A few other boys in the class had also given up on running, but none of them looked as exhausted as Matthew and Jack. "And you two. Do you not know what the word 'endurance' means?"
Both of them just groaned in response, and Mr. Sanders insulted their intelligence under his breath. Alex shot Jack a look of pity as he ran by, who gave him a shaky thumbs up that looked anything but triumphant. The two stayed lying on the turf for most of their remaining class time. Near the end they both moved and managed to work themselves into sitting positions, drinking from plastic bottles of water someone must have brought them. Jack downed half of it then poured the rest over the top of his head.
Near the end the only ones still running were Alex and a boy named Felix Dunn, who in the past was always the one who won these endurance competitions. Alex may have been able to keep going longer, but when he noticed Emilio, Matthew, and Jack getting their energy back, he worried they may use it to fight more destructively.
"But which of us won, coach?" Jack was asking as Alex announced he was stopping.
"Conrad," Mr. Sanders answered, giving Alex his final punch. "By a hell of a lot. You two idiots got the same number of laps. Next time I say 'endurance run', grab a dictionary if you don't understand, yeah? Now go hit the showers so you don't stink up the rooms of whoever has to deal with you two next."
Jack held out a hand and Alex instinctively pulled him to his feet. He almost reached out to help Matthew without thinking, but when he turned toward him Alex was met with his glare again. It stung even more given how happy he had looked during his race with Jack.
Jack pulled Alex off to the lockers before he could get too depressed by the thought that maybe it wasn't old family kids Matthew Montoya had a problem with.
Maybe it was just him.